Page 62 of Hell to Pay

“I don’t deserve this.”

My breath caught. They were the same words I’d repeated to myself after the scandal in high school, after my suicide attempt.

I don’t deserve this.

I’d been bad. A sinner. I’d been shameless, immodest. I’d embarrassed my mom, my little brother.

Shamed them. Shamed God.

It wasn’t the same thing. I knew that. I’d been taken advantage of — by Brandon Miller who’d given me the drink and by the Bastards who’d taken advantage of my condition.

Rafe, Nolan, and Jude had chosen to do what they did to me.

But still. I was starting to wonder if we were all just kind of fumbling around in the dark, victims of our messed-up brains and messed-up families and messed-up psyches.

“Maybe you’re wrong,” I finally said in the dark.

“Wrong?” His voice was clear.

“Maybe we all deserve something good.”

I waited for his response, but he didn’t speak again. I stayed until his breathing regulated and I knew he was asleep.

40

RAFE

I waitedin the Jeep while Lilah went into Moran’s — a squat little auto repair shop on the outskirts of town — to drop off her keys. The grinding in the Honda’s steering column was getting worse and there was a new sound under the hood that made me think she needed a new engine.

The car was shot.

She’d put off taking it in even when we said we'd pay for any repairs — probablybecausewe said we’d pay for any repairs — but it was getting to the point where even she was worried about driving to work and getting stranded on the mountain. Plus, now she was driving Matt around and I knew she took that responsibility seriously.

I could tell she’d been thrown when Nolan and Jude told her I’d have to drive her on the way to pick Matt up from school because they were meeting a source about an upcoming job. I was thrown too. I’d replayed the moment between us a hundred times since the night before when I’d woken up from my nightmare to find her sitting on the edge of my bed. I couldn’t get over how fuckingniceshe was to me in spite of everything. It almost made me mad, took me back to the reason I’d done what I’d done in high school.

But I pushed that down, because I’d been fucked in high school and no matter what I'd been trying to prove — no matter what I’d wanted Lilah to prove to herself — all I’d done was cause more damage.

I’d done a lot of hard things in the military, during SEAL training and after. I’d survived on less than four hours sleep during Hell Week. I’d run four miles with boots and gear in under half an hour. I’d undergone seven weeks of combat dive training, including carrying gear underwater from one point to the other in the dark of night. I’d carried a 150-pound log up a fifteen-foot-high sand berm only to be told to pick it up, lift it over my head, and carry it back to its original resting place.

But none of those things — not one of them — had been as hard as keeping my hands off Lilah last night.

I’d done it not out of a sense of honor but because I’d known she would reject me unless I said those two little words she was determined to hear. And fuck me if I still couldn’t bring myself to say them, even though every second she’d been gone in Greece I’d promised myself I would tell her everything if we got her back.

I’d meant everything and so far I’d told her nothing.

The door to the mechanic’s office opened and she came out digging through her bag. For a few seconds, I saw her unguarded, without the wariness she wore like a shield. Her features were soft, her skin glowing in the afternoon sun, her ponytail draped over one shoulder.

My god she was beautiful. She was so fucking beautiful and she had no idea.

She looked up and saw me watching, but instead of hardening, her features stayed soft, the way they were when she looked at Nolan or Jude.

Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.

“Thanks,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat. “He said he’d call by noon tomorrow.”

I heard the worry in her voice, wished by all that was holy she’d allow us to take it away from her.

We didn’t talk much on the way to the high school. To be fair, we never talked much when we were alone, but this time felt different. In the past we’d been tense around each other. I hadn’t wanted to show her any warmth, hadn’t wanted to let myself get close to her.

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